As they neared the park-gates, Winifred made a suggestion: “Let us go in and see little Phil. He will be so pleased; and then I can rest a little while.” “Are you tired?” “No; at least only a very little; but I should like to go and see Phil.” “All right,” said Ronald; “come on.” Phil’s couch was in the little garden to-day. The summer brightness had tempted him out. “It seemed a pity to miss the last of the summer,” he said in answer to Charley’s question. “It could hardly last; but it was just lovely to feel the sun and fancy the summer had come back again.” He was very pleased to see his visitors, and thanked Winifred over and over again for the books she had sent him, and the mittens she had made. Winifred sat looking quietly about her, listening to the boys’ chatter. Phil was a great referee in matters pertaining to birds, and beasts, and fishes; and Charley and Ronald wanted to ask many questions about the respective advantages of keeping pigeons or rabbits--a point upon which their minds had been much exercised of late. The talk was carried on with animation, and Winnie became interested as she listened. The talk had taken a wider range. “I think you’d like guinea-fowls, Mr. Charley,” Phil was saying. “They’re pretty things, and more interesting, I think, than pigeons. You say Mr. Digby’s given you the little house at the bottom of the field; well, if you wired in a good run for them--he’d be sure to let you do that--why that is all you’d want, and they’d do splendidly, I’m almost sure; I kept a few once, and liked them a lot.” “Guinea-fowls are jolly things,” cried Ronald. “I like to hear them call ‘go back!’ ‘go back!’ ‘go back!’ Let us have them, Charley. They’d be much nicer than rabbits or pigeons.” “But,” said Charley, “it will cost so much more. We’ve got enough money to repair the house and buy some animals; but I’m afraid we sha’n’t be able to have a run wired in, and we couldn’t have them straying all over the place; we should lose them, and it would never do.” Ronald’s face fell. “Would it cost much?” “Pretty much, I’m afraid. You see there would have to be the uprights, and the wire, and a door to get in and out; and they would want a good space or they wouldn’t do. I’m afraid it would cost two or three pounds.” “Oh dear!” sighed Ronald, “then we can’t do it. I should have liked the guinea-fowls.” “Oh yes,” cried Winnie, eagerly, “do get guinea-fowls; they are so pretty and funny. I have got a lot of money in my box--more than three pounds, I know. I will get the wire and wood, and make the run for them. Oh please let me, Charley! I should so like it!” “But, Winnie, it doesn’t seem fair to take your money to spend over our animals.” “Oh, but I want to do it, Charley, I should so like it; and I’m sure you would so like them when you had them. Do please let me make them their run. I don’t want my money--indeed I don’t.” Ronald clapped his hands ecstatically.